


Grau dois

by orphan_account



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Whump, concussion, look what you made me do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7696663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was an accident. Gareth didn't mean to take Cristiano's scalp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grau dois

**Author's Note:**

> *takes head in both hands* How did I even get there…
> 
> I'm French. During the nearly-to-last leg of the Euro competition, I was at my Mom's after surgery (I'm good, thanks). None of us really watch football. July 3rd, during France/Iceland quarterfinal, as I was trouncing her at Scrabble, we heard the neighbors yelling. We put the TV on and saw it was 3-0 for France. As you may know, France won the match 5-2 (and the Iceland team danced before their supporters, who danced back). Yay ! Let's go back to Scrabble.
> 
> July 7th : France/Germany. Victory again – we are in final, yay ! Let's go visit the Cathedral (my Mom lives in Chartres).
> 
> Ok, I admit, I was kinda proud. I remember World Cup in 1998, following the match on TV with my family. So, when I went back home – where I don't have TV but spend far too much time on internet – I decided to keep an eye on it. 
> 
> I was only interested in the French team. I didn't actually care if they won or lost ; I'm generally curious about everything. The only thing I knew about Cristiano was the Photoshop frenzy after his scare during the Austria/Portugal match.
> 
> 10th July came. I was vaguely browsing national news' feeds (because 0-0 gets boring after a while). I read "Cristiano Ronaldo, in tears, has to be stretched out of the field". And something in my brain went 'pling'. 
> 
> Because my brain is addicted to hurt/comfort.
> 
> And I don't control my brain. It controls me.
> 
> Of course, I knew I could find solace on AO3. Dozens of fics ! AUs. So. Much. Sex. But not exactly what I was looking for. We French have a saying : "If you want it done right you better do it yourself." Well… here it is.
> 
> I don't know a lick of Portuguese, but this story takes place in Madrid. Title means "Grade two" in Portuguese.
> 
> Flames about Cricky and RPF in general (what are you doing here anyway ?) will be laughed at and deleted.

_His head hurt._

_What was happening ?_

"Shit !"

"Cris ?"

_What happened ?_

"Is it his knee ? _Oh, merde_ !"

_Was it his knee ? No. It didn't hurt. Or did it ? He tried to move it._

"Cris, don't move. You're hurt."

_Oh ?_

"Cris, look at me. Come on, open your eyes."

_Hurts. Light hurts._

"Is he conscious ?"

He managed to rasp "Yes" and had to stop there with sudden nausea. 

"Let us work."

Medical team had gotten here fast.

"Cristiano, we're putting a brace around your neck. Don't move."

But it's his head which was hurt, not his neck.

"We're putting you on a board. Don't move, don't try to help us. Just let us work, ok ?"

"'kay…"

Moving also hurt. And nausea. He tried to breathe through his nose, like how he told his son during car rides.

"Cristiano, can you open your eyes ?"

Yes.

"Can you see how many fingers I am showing ?"

No. And trying to focus his vision hurt. He closed his eyes again, tears welling up. Now they were lifting him and the world began to roll. He distantly realized he was shivering, then wondered why it was "distantly", then decided to rest a bit.

Then they were shining a light directly in his eyes, and that hurt like hell. He groaned.

"Cristiano, you with us ?"

"… yay ?"

"We're taking you to hospital. Do you know what happened ?"

"… I got hurt ?" His voice was pathetic, and if they kept him talking they would have a bad surprise.

"Do you remember how ?"

… no, and a part of his hurting brain told him it was bad.

"Ok, it's ok if you don't remember. You've got a nice wound on your head and were unconscious for a little while. Can you open your eyes again ?"

He didn't want to, it hurt, but that didn't stop them. He grimaced and tried to get his head away.

"No, don't move. We don't know if your back is injured. You took quite a blow."

Now that he was searching for it, he could feel that part of the pain was somebody pressing on his crown like trying to press it in. He tried to get that hand away.

"Easy, don't move. I know it hurts, but you have to keep still. I’m inserting a needle in your hand, shouldn't take more than a second."

It would be nice if they gave him something for the pain. 

"All set. We still have about five minutes. Are you hurt anywhere else ?"

"… no"

"I'm putting a line in, could feel a bit weird."

They didn't seem to have need of him for now, so he dozed a bit, waking up at the hospital.

"31-old male, blow to the skull with laceration of scalp, loss of consciousness and amnesia, severe photophobia, confusion and fatigue. Initial Glasgow 8, now 12, blood pressure…"

Everything was too much noise and light ; he grimaced, feeling tears run, and tried to retract in his head.

He probably managed it because he woke up a bit later, with only Bal and somebody at his head.

"When did you get there ?"

His preferred medic chuckled.

"I never left, I rode with the ambulance. You were pretty out of it. How do you feel ?"

The pain was less strong, but everything was still fuzzy. He was nearly sure there was only one cabinet on the other side of the room, but they persisted to be two. He tried closing one eye. No change. Also it felt like at least one contact had fallen off, which explained the fuzziness.

"What happened ?"

"We're not completely sure but it seems Bale got a kick on your head. You have a tear about 10 centimeters. We were afraid you hurt your neck, but there's no serious fracture and no bleeding on the MRI. You still got a concussion, they're keeping you a few days. Your doctor should be back soon."

"Meanwhile if you could keep still so I stitch that up…"

He stilled and sighed. He didn't have the neck brace anymore. He felt no pain, but a weird sensation where the person was stitching his scalp.

"I thought you can't sleep with a concussion."

"When you woke up you were conscious, no seizures, no alarming signs, and you kept waking up when asked to – you probably don't remember. Head wounds are exhausting and you lost some blood, rest is the good thing for now."

"You called Zidane ?"

"As soon as I had the news, but I got strict orders to be there when you woke up. If you feel better I'll leave you to rest."

It still took a few moments to proceed everything.

"Gareth seriously kicked me in the head ?"

"They don't know how, but there was blood on his shoe. He feels terrible by the way. Do you remember what happened ?"

"No…"

"Thought it so, it's common with head wounds. Don't worry. You're in good hands. Get some rest."

His eyelids were getting heavy.

"You called m'family ?"

"And reassured them. They'll call back soon, I told them to let you rest a bit."

They were keeping him at least three days, explained the doctor.

"You had no seizures or other signs of swelling or bleeding, but concussions are tricky, especially with speed impacts. Actually you have signs of a hairline fracture, which is nothing too worrying, as long as you don't bleed underneath. From what I heard, your skull was used as a ball, and I suppose you know the speed of a kick can go up to 50 mph. But the images cannot tell us everything – concussions are also a matter of electrical and chemical imbalance. Knowing the work you do, it's very possible you already had several minor concussions in your life, which made your brain more fragile. We'll keep a close eye on you the next 72 hours, get some more images to verify you continue to not bleed."

He was also on light meals for 24 hours, which wasn't really a problem as soup was the only thing he thought he could stomach right now. Bal or Olmo had gotten him a private room. He powered through a neuro check from a tired nurse (follow-my-finger-smile-what-day-is-it-how-is-the-pain-squeeze-my-hand-move-your-foot-touch-your-nose) and crashed to sleep.

They woke him four times for neuro checks. If he hadn't been so tired he would probably have been able, by the morning, to recite the list by himself.

He slept through most of the day, woken for a MRI (which he was not allowed to nap through), a depressing meal of boiled potatoes and bland canned gazpacho look-alike, several neuro checks and a short phone call from Ricardo.

"Olmo told us you'd be groggy for a few days and it would be better to let you rest. How do you feel ?"

The words came without thinking.

"Will you come tomorrow ?"

"Sure" he was smiling. "Junior wants to visit, you feel up to it ?"

"I'm not sure children can come. I'll ask. How is my mom ?"

"She wanted to call your doctor, Olmo had a hard time reassuring her." His lover paused. "You sound knackered."

He chuckled despite himself. 

"I feel it."

"I'll let you rest. See you tomorrow."

"Love you."

"Me too. Get better."

"Working on it."

"When don't you."

Everything that moved his head hurt, but it felt good to laugh.

The next day was mostly a repeat, with some variation in the neuro checks. He managed to take a quick shower and was dozing when Ricardo knocked at the door. His boyfriend had brought a travel bag and a big plastic one, which he put on the sofa before embracing him. Cristiano relaxed in the hug, sighing. Ricardo kept him a few minutes before gently extracting himself and examining him.

"Nice style."

He snorted despite himself. His head had been partly shaven to put the stitches on, and still slightly wet (he'd been too exhausted after the shower to really dry it) his hair was curling. He was scruffy and white as a sheet. Not a pretty look.

His mother had sent a fruit basket, Junior a drawing of Pokemon ("Mewtwo and Psyduck, because you hurt your head"), the team a card. Ricardo had gotten him some clothes and toiletries, his glasses, his phone. He told him what the team had concluded.

"End-of-practice error. You both went for the ball, then you saw Bale, you tried to back up, you slipped and he kicked you in the head. He tried to brake but his heel went right to your head. You were unconscious for about twenty seconds. They were very worried you had hurt your neck."

"I have a hairline fracture. He cracked my skull."

"Apparently he would have told Pepe and Karim that if he wanted to maim you he would have done it earlier."

"Maim ?"

"OK, he said kill. They got him drunk."

"I hope he had the worst hangover ever gotten by man."

And at last the next day the neurologist declared himself satisfied. He was allowed to leave on what felt like probation – solid rest, no physical effort whatsoever, no practice for three weeks and only after another full exam.

"Your brain will be more fragile for weeks, maybe months. Avoid any shock to the head and if anything happens, even a dizzy spell, consult your doctor. Everything is in this documentation. Is somebody coming to get you ?"

"Yes, a friend is coming to pick me up."

"Perfect. Here is your prescription for the painkillers and antibiotics. Here are the instructions for the nurse. The sutures can be removed in one week. Take care of yourself."

Visits from children were "not advised" and the light hurt his eyes too much to even think of using his phone. The hospital's hairdresser had buzzed his hair short – he was due for a haircut anyway – and when his son ran to him, he immediately remarked it and asked if he could get the same cut (no). He sprawled on the couch with a water bottle, orange salad and homemade biscotti (the "no food on the couch" rule was lifted when one was injured) and when he dozed off, he was sure not to be waken for a neuro check.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame lousea and GivenTheChonce for pushing my innocent aromantic self to write Cricky. Seriously I don't know what happened. I only needed somebody to visit him at the hospital and… well.
> 
> I don't have anything against Gareth Bale. I had to use a random draw engine to find a culprit. 
> 
> "Bal" is an OC, I needed a trusted medic to create a link between the team and the hospital. His full name is Abulcasis Martinez, but he prefers to go by a nickname.
> 
> This wasn't beta-ed because I couldn't think of anybody to do that. I tried my best but English isn't my first language so if something is awkward, tell me in the comments.
> 
> [Here](asmuchasidliketo.tumblr.com) is my tumblr, but don't look for Cris in it. However you can try [here](http://cr7cky.tumblr.com), [here](http://cristiano-defense-squad.tumblr.com) and [here](http://thecrickyleague.tumblr.com/). They are Cricky. What can I say, it's kinda cute.


End file.
